


Past Conditional

by Fox



Series: Future Perfect [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-03-30
Updated: 2000-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-02 15:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox/pseuds/Fox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series looking at Episode One from behind the scenes. What happened in all those screen wipes and quick cuts? Your friendly neighborhood Fox tries to smooth out the editing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past Conditional

**Author's Note:**

> I am not now, nor have I ever been, George Lucas.

Qui-Gon woke slowly, sure he was hearing someone call to him. "Master?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon did not open his eyes.

"This boy."

"Yes, Obi-Wan."

"Was it his blood you sent me for analysis?"

"Naturally." Opening one eye, Qui-Gon saw that his apprentice had pulled a chair to the side of his bed, and was hunched forward, elbows on his knees, gazing at him intently and fidgeting a little nervously. "What is it, Obi-Wan?"

The younger man shook his head, as if physically trying to dislodge the stray thought. "Nothing. Nothing, Master. We're coming out of hyperspace. You asked me to wake you."

Qui-Gon sat up, leaning on his elbows. "Thank you. How long until we land?"

"Less than two hours, Master." Obi-Wan stood. "Excuse me."

Watching him go, Qui-Gon felt himself give a little sigh. With each day that passed, Obi-Wan grew more and more troubled by his nebulous precognition. He paced and frowned and sometimes seemed even to scowl; Qui-Gon had not seen the sweet, bright smile he so adored since before they had left on this mission. He dragged himself reluctantly from his bunk to dress and meditate before landing.

Something was going to separate them, Obi-Wan had said. Qui-Gon wondered why his apprentice had been visited by this vision when he himself had not. Although he was not accustomed to knowledge of the future like his own master, he was more skilled at interpreting premonitions than his Obi-Wan, and could very likely have made sense of the jumble of images and ideas that had planted itself in the younger man's mind. Instead, Obi-Wan bore the burden himself. He spoke of it very little, referring to it simply as a feeling in his gut, conceding details only on the day they had left Tatooine -- after the assault on his sense of security, in rapid succession, of the horned creature and the boy's mother.

Qui-Gon composed himself to meditate, and to set Obi-Wan's vision from his thoughts. Much though it hurt him to see his beloved padawan in distress, he could not, Yoda-like, summon a precognition. He settled his body, slowed his breathing, and let the Force carry the anxiety away from his heart as water carried poison from a wound.

* * *

Obi-Wan stood behind his master, chewing the inside of his cheek to maintain his calm as Qui-Gon related the attack of the horned creature to the Council. The vision was swimming again just below the surface of his consciousness; he could not both open his mind to it and keep his gaze alert, but it was the vision that exerted the more powerful draw. Obi-Wan deliberately looked from Qui-Gon to Master Windu to Master Yoda and back again, varying his attention so the premonition would not consume him. Although he would not allow himself the images, he could clearly perceive the feelings, and they were strong enough. He felt a pronounced absence of Qui-Gon; although the man's essence was still hazily detectable, the overwhelming presence he had been in Obi-Wan's life these dozen years was gone. He felt his own anger, and tried before he knew what he was doing to control that emotion, realizing after a moment that he could not channel and release anger he only suspected he might one day feel. Mixed up around the edges, obscuring the clarity of the vision, were misery, despair, heartache, the bitterness of betrayal. Obi-Wan wasn't sure whose emotions these were supposed to be.

Qui-Gon had evidently finished speaking. Master Windu had excused them, with that air of quiet but stone-cold authority in his voice only a green-horned fool -- or Master Qui-Gon Jinn -- would challenge. Obi-Wan had turned to go when he realized his master had not, and he heard Yoda's ill-concealed curiosity: "Master Qui-Gon? More to say have you?"

"With your permission, my master. I believe I have encountered a vergence in the Force." Obi-Wan's heart sank. The boy. Without taking him to any healers, without running any more sophisticated tests than a patched-in blood count on a Naboo spacecraft, he had gone straight to the top and brought the boy -- or at least the issue of the boy -- immediately to the Council. No wonder they'd never invited him to sit on that assembly; never mind the Code, the man had no respect for procedure.

The Council was surprised by Qui-Gon's statement. "A vergence, you say?"

"Located around a ... a person?" There were places where the Force was known to be especially strong, hanging heavy in the air like fog; but Obi-Wan had never known of a person who had the Force so much with him. Master Yoda was the most sensitive to the Force of all living Jedi, and the Force certainly didn't follow _him_ around like a cloud.

"A boy. His cells have the highest concentration of midichlorians I have seen in a life form. It's possible he was conceived by the midichlorians." With an effort he fervently hoped the Council could not perceive, Obi-Wan refrained from rolling his eyes.

Those Councilors who had not already sat up and taken notice did so now. "You refer to the prophecy of the one who will bring balance to the Force?" Master Windu sounded the tiniest bit suspicious. "You believe it's this ... boy?"

"I don't presume to --"

"But you do!" Master Yoda interrupted. "Revealed, your opinion is." That was true enough. Qui-Gon was a diplomat and negotiator without equal, and could charm the hind leg off a gundark. That was a good part of what had caused Obi-Wan to fall in love with him in the first place. But his manner didn't fool anyone on the Council, least of all Master Yoda, who had trained Qui-Gon from an early age in precisely the smooth deference he was now exhibiting.

Qui-Gon sighed and conceded the point to his old master. "I ask that the boy be tested."

_You could have had him tested yourself, Master_, Obi-Wan thought helplessly, _and then you'd be so much more likely to get what you want_ ...

"Trained as a Jedi, you wish for him, hmm?" Master Yoda always sounded just amused enough to be interested, but not enough to mock his fellow-Jedi.

"Finding him was the will of the Force. I'm sure of it."

At that, Master Windu _did_ roll his eyes, making a you-win gesture with his hands. "Bring him before us, then."

"Tested he will be," Master Yoda said. "May the Force be with you." Only after this concession did Qui-Gon bow and leave the Council chamber. Obi-Wan followed him.

Anakin was excited to meet the Council; Obi-Wan noted that Qui-Gon did not disabuse the boy of the notion that his training might begin immediately. It was not precisely a lie, but it was certainly a withholding of the truth. Obi-Wan was certain it would have been kinder to the child to advise him that the Council was wary, wary of _all_ Force-strong young people they came across, so he could be prepared for the possibility of disappointment from the outset. Dishonesty, even as slight as this, could not be the right way to train a Jedi. Obi-Wan had never noticed behavior like this in Qui-Gon before, and wondered if it was because he had been blinded by loyalty then -- or because Qui-Gon was blinded by Anakin now.

Qui-Gon spoke briefly with Anakin when they reached the Council chamber. Obi-Wan did not hear what either said, but Anakin nodded good-naturedly and went in to the chamber by himself. Qui-Gon straightened, noted the displeased expression Obi-Wan could feel on his own face, and moved toward the balcony, saying nothing. He had evidently decided Obi-Wan wanted or needed to be left alone. The young man swallowed his annoyance. Qui-Gon was not patronizing or humoring him; his master had the courage of his convictions, and chose not to begin a discussion he knew would end in an argument.

But he looked so smug, as though he knew his apprentice would come around eventually. Obi-Wan wouldn't have that. Qui-Gon might be older and wiser, but that and a handful of credits wouldn't buy him lunch. He was _not_ always right, and he knew it; his apprentice did not always agree with him, and it was time he knew that too. "The boy will not pass the Council's tests, Master," he pointed out, following the older man through the archway. "He's too old."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "Anakin will be a Jedi. I promise you."

Obi-Wan felt a slight sense of dread, just a whisper in the back of his mind of the vision. Residue from the Council meeting. He tried to ignore it. "Don't defy the Council, Master," he said -- trying to plead rather than scold, but unable not to finish his thought -- "not again."

Qui-Gon raised the other eyebrow; Obi-Wan was skirting dangerously close to the limits of his patience. "I shall do what I must, Obi-Wan," he said, in the tone of voice that had once meant the subject was closed. He stepped to the railing, watching the city buzz in the sunset.

"If you'd just follow the Code, Master, you'd be _on_ the Council," Obi-Wan persisted. "They will not go along with you this time."

Qui-Gon turned and laid a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "You still have much to learn, my young apprentice." Obi-Wan nodded, mildly annoyed that Qui-Gon had played the rank card, calling him "young apprentice" to cut him down; he was even more annoyed with himself for being annoyed at his master. He _was_ the man's young apprentice, as well as his lover, and it was right of Qui-Gon to continue to guide and instruct him as any master would. Qui-Gon's expression softened somewhat. "I sense something very special in Anakin, love," he said, switching roles. "I wish you did as well. Just as I wish I also sensed the vision that has been troubling you."

"You don't think what I've sensed is going to happen?" Obi-Wan stiffened. The parallel had been unmistakable: Obi-Wan did not doubt Qui-Gon had felt a particular strength about Anakin -- merely that this must mean he was the Chosen One and all due process should be abandoned. Qui-Gon did not doubt Obi-Wan had had a vision in which they were no longer together -- merely that this must mean Qui-Gon himself was in some sort of serious danger. Obi-Wan knew his strength was not in presentiment; but he had not insisted that anyone alter habits and procedures to accommodate his vision.

"The future is difficult to see, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said gently. "I don't know what will be the outcome of your vision any more than you do."

"But how do you know you're right about Anakin?" Obi-Wan reasoned. "How can you be any more certain than I can?" Qui-Gon started to sigh and pull the young man into his arms, but Obi-Wan resisted. "Don't tell me you're not surprised I don't understand, _Master_," he said pointedly. "Not when you've just told me how much I have to learn. Teach me, if there's something to be taught."

Qui-Gon did sigh, in contemplation rather than frustration, and folded his arms into his sleeves. "The difference as I see it, Padawan, is one of direction," he said. "Your precognition is a beginning. It has no reference, nothing to link to. The Force has given you a vision that stands alone." Obi-Wan nodded, briefly. "My vision is an ending. There has been a prophecy of a Chosen One, and I believe I have found him. The Force has given me a vision that complements what we already know. Do you understand?"

"I believe so, Master."

"We cannot know if one vision is more accurate than another, Obi-Wan, but we can use precedent, when it exists, in interpretation."

"Yes, Master."

"It is my belief that the Force itself chose Anakin. Do you understand it is my duty to see him trained?"

"Master, if the Force itself chose him, why does it matter if we train him or not?"

Qui-Gon closed his eyes. "Obi-Wan, I do not wish to argue about this any more. The Council will decide, and until they do all this discussion is purely academic. And it's making us both cranky."

"I'm sorry, Master," Obi-Wan said, turning to leave the other man in peace.

Qui-Gon stopped him. "Let us just be together for a bit, hmm?" He drew Obi-Wan back to stand in front of him again. "For a little while?" Obi-Wan stepped into his arms and accepted his kiss. After a moment he turned and leaned back against Qui-Gon's shoulder, the long arms wrapping around his waist and the bearded chin next to his temple. Not speaking, they simply stood, waiting for Anakin and watching the sky darken.  
Dusk had nearly given way to night when the Council summoned Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan back into the chamber. The boy was not perceptibly anxious; he was unruffled by what had no doubt been a barrage of tests, but glad they were over. Qui-Gon bowed to the Council, knowing that behind his right shoulder Obi-Wan did the same.

No time was wasted. "The Force is strong with him," Ki-Adi-Mundi said.

Qui-Gon nodded his satisfaction. "He's to be trained, then."

"No."

The word had come from Mace. The man was leaned back against the back of his seat, legs crossed, one arm thrown over the back of the chair. Clearly, it bothered him not at all to relate this news. Against his training, Qui-Gon allowed his face to betray his shock. He glanced around the chamber, seeing nor sensing no tension from any of the assembled masters. All were comfortable with this decision. "He will not be trained," Mace confirmed.

"No?!" He felt his arms unfold, his peaceful center lost.

"He is too old," Mace said with infuriating calm.

Qui-Gon felt Anakin's distress at this. He felt Obi-Wan's relief, as well, and channeled his sudden anger at the young man into anger at the Council. "He is the Chosen One. You must see it," he insisted.

Master Yoda closed his eyes. "Hmm ... clouded, this boy's future is," he announced.

His future might be clouded, his mind might be full of fear, but the boy had been chosen by the Force. He had to be trained. It was the Force's will. Qui-Gon stepped to his side and placed his hands on Anakin's shoulders. "I will train him, then," he declared. Spikes of surprise came from everyone in the room. "I take Anakin as my padawan learner."

As soon as he said it, he knew it had been the wrong thing to say. The masters of the Council had overcome their initial surprise, but Obi-Wan had not. He felt the fury radiating from the younger man, almost heard his voice cracking -- [[How could you? How _could_ you?!]] -- and had no doubt everyone else, even Anakin, could sense it as well. His heart suddenly ached at the pain he had caused.

"An apprentice you have, Qui-Gon," Master Yoda chided him. _And I've hurt him, I've hurt him_, he thought. "Impossible to take on a second."

"The Code forbids it," Mace added, apparently forgetting that Qui-Gon cared little for the Code when it did not suit his cause. But now, still keenly aware of Obi-Wan's anger, Qui-Gon understood: the Code forbade the taking of a second padawan before the first had been knighted for precisely this reason. No matter how carefully the master explained his decision -- and Qui-Gon had not done so carefully at all -- the first apprentice was bound to feel cast aside. [[How _could_ you?!]]

"Obi-Wan is ready," he began.

Obi-Wan stepped forward instantly. "I am ready to face the trials," he said.

"Our own council will we keep on who is ready," Master Yoda told them both.

"He is headstrong," Qui-Gon said, glancing over at his apprentice and wishing he hadn't, stunned by the hurt in his form as he stared at the floor, sick with guilt that he had put it there -- "and he has much to learn of the Living Force, but he is capable. There is little more he will learn from me." [[I'm sorry, love, I'm sorry,]] he tried to project. He didn't want to look at the young man again, but he knew he had to; their eyes met for just a moment, and in that moment Qui-Gon saw anger and sadness and the worst thing of all -- disillusionment. [[Should have told you sooner, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.]]

[[How could you?]] was all he got back, but quieter; the Force no longer trembled with Obi-Wan's rage.

"Young Skywalker's fate will be decided later," Yoda insisted.

"Now is not the time for this," Mace said, silencing everyone. He leaned forward. "The Senate is voting for a new supreme chancellor and Queen Amidala is returning home, which will put pressure on the Federation and could widen the confrontation."

"And draw out the Queen's attacker," Ki-Adi-Mundi pointed out.

"Go with the Queen to Naboo," Mace said, "and discover the identity of this dark warrior. This is the clue we need to unravel the mystery of the Sith." He leaned back in his chair, the meaning clear: Mace has spoken, and this interview is over.

Yoda dismissed them formally: "May the Force be with you."

All three bowed and left the chamber, Obi-Wan fairly sprinting to reach the door as Qui-Gon walked behind with his charge. "Run and get your things, Ani," Qui-Gon said, "and fetch Jar Jar as well. We'll be leaving as soon as the ship is ready." Anakin made a face at the mention of the Gungan's name, but scampered off to do Qui-Gon's bidding. Obi-Wan was waiting, hands tucked into his sleeves, face like stone. Qui-Gon suspected nothing would be gained by trying to explain himself now. "Come, Padawan," he said instead. "We must assist the crew with readying the ship."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said as they started toward the landing pad. After a long pause, he spoke again. "What will you do now, Master?"

"Padawan?"

"With the boy?" They stepped into the ship, checking supplies and double-checking communications links.

"He needs guidance. I shall try to show him the ways of the Force."

"Qui-Gon, the Council --"

"I know what the Council said, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon snapped. "And I know why they said it."

"Then why don't you heed their warnings?" Obi-Wan challenged.

"The boy is not to blame for his age," Qui-Gon countered, leaning closer to the younger man and lowering his voice, "and when we are in public you will please address me with the respect due a master."

"It's not disrespect, _Master_," Obi-Wan said, not missing a beat as he followed Qui-Gon down the ramp and back onto the landing pad. "It's the truth."

"From your point of view," Qui-Gon replied, over his shoulder.

"The boy is dangerous -- they all sense it, why can't you?"

His patience was wearing thin. "His future is _uncertain_, but he's not dangerous. The Council will decide Anakin's future -- that should be enough for you. Now get on board." Swallowing a retort, Obi-Wan obeyed, and Qui-Gon's heart sank further; when he could have apologized, could have acknowledged that Obi-Wan had been right about the Council and he had been wrong, he had reasserted his rank and driven the wedge further between them.

With a start, Qui-Gon realized that this separation was precisely what Obi-Wan had referred to in his vision. The prescience had come to him at the beginning of this mission, had gotten worse when Anakin had come on board, and was even now playing itself out, as his own commitment to Anakin's training was drawing him unwittingly away from his Obi-Wan.

Anakin was speaking to him. "Master Qui-Gon, sir, I don't want to be a problem."

"You won't be, Ani," he assured the boy, crouching in front of him. "Now, I'm not allowed to train you, so I want you to watch me and be mindful. Remember, your focus determines your reality." He managed to distract himself with that statement ... how often he let that maxim slip to the back of his mind. His focus on Obi-Wan's precognition had virtually ensured it would be realized. "Stay close to me," he said to Anakin, "and you'll be safe."

"Master Qui-Gon, sir, I heard Yoda talking about midichlorians, and I've been wondering -- what are midichlorians?"

His mind on Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon answered the boy's questions. He could sense the younger man was coming to terms with his anger -- not that he was any less angry, but that he was resigning himself to it. That wasn't what he wanted. He wanted desperately to go to Obi-Wan, quiet him with a finger to his lips when he would speak, and remove that finger to cover Obi-Wan's lips with his own. He wanted to kneel and implore his lover's pardon, looking up into those beloved eyes rather than down on them. He wanted to close his eyes and open his heart and let Obi-Wan know, not just believe, how precious he was to him. He wanted Obi-Wan to love him again, and know his love was returned.

The queen and her retinue were approaching: it was time to leave. "Your Majesty," he said, rising, "it is our pleasure to continue to serve and protect you."

"I welcome your help," the girl said. "Senator Palpatine fears the Federation means to destroy me."

"I assure you," Qui-Gon said as he accompanied the party aboard ship, "I will not let that happen."

"Master Jinn," Captain Panaka said as Jar Jar and Anakin came aboard and the ramp was retracted, "I'd like for us to meet with Her Highness en route and try to come up with some kind of strategy."

"That sounds wise, Captain," Qui-Gon agreed. "My apprentice and I are at your disposal. Let us know when you and the queen are ready."

They lifted off almost immediately; all hands strapped in for the jump to hyperspace, then Qui-Gon helped Anakin settle in his cabin and returned to the cabin he was to share with Obi-Wan. "One of us should be on alert at all times, Master," Obi-Wan said before Qui-Gon could speak. "We don't know how much the Federation knows of the queen's movements. Do you agree?"

_Your reasoning can be made to make sense -- rationalized, which is what you're doing, my heart_, he thought. _Oh, my Obi-Wan, I've driven you away_ ... "Yes, Padawan. Very wise."

"We'll have to trade off." The young man indicated the only bed, his eyes unreadable.

Qui-Gon nodded, unable for the moment to speak through the lump in his throat. His commlink chirped. "Jinn," he said when he had fished it out.

"Panaka here. We're ready for you."

"We'll be right there." He clicked off and turned to Obi-Wan. "Come," he said. "Panaka wishes us to consult with him and the queen and decide on a plan."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, folding his arms into his sleeves.

"Master Qui-Gon, sir," Anakin said, trotting out of his cabin as the two Jedi made their way down the hall. "Can I go sit in the cockpit and watch the pilots?"

"You may if they don't mind, Anakin," Qui-Gon said. "But if you're in their way, you're to stay in your cabin and concentrate on quieting your mind, like I told you."

"Yes, sir. Thank you." He hurried off toward the cockpit as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan rounded the corner to the queen's chambers.

"Gentlemen," Amidala said from her throne. "Thank you for joining us. I want to be assured everyone is aware of the plan for our return."

"I am not aware, your Majesty," Qui-Gon said, stepping forward -- noticing that Obi-Wan did not remain his customary one step behind, but hung back -- "of any plan other than landing on Naboo and returning to Theed."

"That is the general goal, yes," she said.

"The moment we land," said Panaka, "the Federation will arrest you, and force you to sign their treaty."

"I agree," Qui-Gon nodded. "I'm not sure what you hope to accomplish by this."

"We will take back what is ours," the girl said, her uninflected voice seeming to take on a sharper edge for a moment.

"There are only twelve of us, your Highness. We have no army," Panaka reminded her.

"And," Qui-Gon advised, "I can only protect you. I cannot fight a war for you."

There was a pause before the girl spoke again. "Jar Jar Binks," she said.

The Gungan, standing back with Obi-Wan, looked up. "Mesa, your Highness?"

"I need your help." Qui-Gon was glad to note that Obi-Wan and Panaka joined him in holding their tongues. "Your people and ours have never interacted, because we have never had much in common. But we do share our world. The Federation threatens to take it from us. Will your people stand with us to stop this from happening?"

Jar Jar swallowed once. "My no know, your Highness. Wesa might'n be goin to da bosses and askin dem for help -- nobody no listenin to mesa."

"I understand," Amidala said. "When we land, will you take us to your bosses so we may make some arrangement?"

"Mesa tryin bery, bery hard to helpin yousa, your Highness."

"Thank you," she said. "That is all we can ask."

* * *

Obi-Wan spent the next several days avoiding his master, and being avoided in turn. Neither of them slept for more than six hours at a time, and both were accustomed to long periods of wakefulness, so there was never a time when both were in the cabin at once. Qui-Gon was busy with Anakin, observing and guiding the boy but not technically training him, following the Council's order in word if not in spirit. Obi-Wan, for his part, socialized with Panaka and the crew, chatted pleasantly with the queen and her staff, and meditated.

He was angry, and frighteningly so, at his master's casual willingness to discard him in favor of a younger, more potentially powerful apprentice. Qui-Gon had immediately tried to cover his cruelty with a suggestion that Obi-Wan take his trials and thus complete his training. That, at least, showed he still cared what Obi-Wan thought of himself, and what he thought Qui-Gon thought of him. Obi-Wan had felt threads of the older man's distress penetrating his own anger -- miserable, abject apologies from a proud man who knew he had wounded his lover. If Obi-Wan had felt _only_ like a spurned lover, that might have been enough; but the fact that Qui-Gon was evidently through training him tore at his heart and made his stomach turn.

At least his master was true to his word. He had said Obi-Wan was ready, had said he could teach him nothing more, and as the days passed Obi-Wan had to concede that Qui-Gon did not try to pretend nothing had happened, did not try to renege on that position. When they met, in corridors and passageways, both were civil but distant: Qui-Gon treated him as he might treat a colleague, albeit a very junior one, rather than a student. In an unguarded moment, Obi-Wan sensed his master's anger, but also sensed it was entirely self-directed. Qui-Gon was not angry at him.

That surprised him. _He_ knew he had done little, if anything, to provoke his master's anger, and had stubbornly decided, with this in mind, not to take the easy way out and apologize merely because it was expected of him. Qui-Gon, though, seemed reluctant to approach him. Afraid to provoke another outburst? Obi-Wan hadn't been unreasonable in his reactions. No, Qui-Gon was afraid for Obi-Wan, not for himself; he feared hurting his beloved apprentice any further, and so he avoided him until the younger man was ready to face him.

Was he ready? Obi-Wan reflected on his own emotions. Anger -- he was familiar with that. Anger at the public rejection, the equally-public replacement, the apparent loss of Qui-Gon. He concentrated on his anger, letting it boil away like steam from an uncovered pot. Misery, despair, heartache. He was still, from time to time, desperately unhappy at the prospect of life alone, without Qui-Gon before him, but his sense of Qui-Gon's wretchedness tempered his own. He focused on his despair, letting it bleed away like water soaking into parched soil. Betrayal. Qui-Gon, who had always loved him, in whose life he had always been the most important thing, had pre-empted him in favor of --

With a shock of recognition that physically set him reeling, Obi-Wan saw that his vision had been realized. Everything he had felt in the Council chamber at the debriefing had just been visited on him without his noticing. He almost laughed at his paranoia -- he had known that something, somehow, would take Qui-Gon from him, and had assumed this meant his master was in danger or intending to leave him. He had completely failed to consider that what separated them might _only_ separate them as master and padawan, might be his promotion to the rank of knight, might have nothing to do with danger of physical harm. The anger and the misery he had foreseen were now realized in himself and his master; they related to the handling of the situation, not the situation itself.

Master Yoda was always saying the future was in motion. For all his vision had come true, it was not too late for Obi-Wan to repair his relationship with his master. Qui-Gon the master still respected him, he knew, and _did_ believe him ready for knighthood, and would never trade him for any other apprentice. And Qui-Gon the man still loved him, and would never trade him for anything.

At peace, Obi-Wan settled in his bunk to sleep away the last ship's night before they landed.

* * *

They arrived on Naboo around midday, local time. The blockade was gone, and they landed on the Gungan side of the planet, managing to avoid the Federation patrols combing the surface. Qui-Gon and Anakin helped unload the ship, while Obi-Wan went with Panaka to arrange a meeting-time with Jar Jar. Sensing his padawan's return, Qui-Gon allowed Anakin to seek Padme, the queen's handmaiden, with whom he had become friends; the boy could help the women, if they needed it, leaving Qui-Gon free to make amends with Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan's mild surprise at finding him by himself, but did not turn to look at him. The young man stopped, taking a moment to choose his words. "Jar Jar is on his way to the Gungan city, Master," he said, not coldly or formally.

"Good." Qui-Gon could think of nothing else to say.

"Do you think the queen's idea will work?"

Qui-Gon did not want to argue again. "The Gungans will not easily be swayed," he said -- a little shortly, he realized, once he heard his own voice -- "and we cannot use our power to help her."

Obi-Wan hesitated, marshalling his thoughts with effort before speaking again. "I -- I'm sorry for my behavior, Master." _It is I who should be apologizing to you, Padawan._ "It isn't my place to disagree with you about the boy." Qui-Gon turned to look at him. "And I am grateful you think I'm ready to take the trials. --"

This self-effacement had to stop. "You've been a good apprentice, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, laying a hand on his shoulder. He noticed, or thought he noticed, the tiniest gasp from Obi-Wan; the younger man had been craving that touch as much as he had himself. "And you're a wiser man than I am," he added, projecting all his faith and trust and love and hoping Obi-Wan absorbed some of it. "I foresee you will become a great Jedi Knight."

Obi-Wan's eyes closed, and Qui-Gon felt the shoulder muscle under his hand tense. "A good apprentice, Master?" he repeated. "A great knight?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan. Probably one of the greatest the order will ever --"

"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan said harshly, stunning him into silence. "You have more than done your part to assure me that you value me as a padawan. And now if you don't kiss me soon I think my head may explode."

The threat made Qui-Gon's knees weak. Shifting his grip from Obi-Wan's shoulder to his braid, he drew the younger man -- eyes still closed -- slowly towards him. His other hand drifted to the opposite side of the upturned face, thumb at the cheekbone, fingertips at the jaw, as he leaned down to comply with his Obi-Wan's demand. Softly, softly, he breathed a kiss onto the upper lip, feeling his lover's breath catch and his own stomach tighten. He moved to the lower lip, soft press to the yielding warmth, and was rewarded with another gasp and a checked moan. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this up. He parted his lips and ghosted them past Obi-Wan's, not quite touching, nudging the end of Obi-Wan's nose with the end of his own, just touching those parted lips, tasting one corner of the open mouth, a nuzzle, a touch, and then his lips covered his lover's and he drew the groan straight from Obi-Wan's throat to his own, returning it in kind, slowly tasting the insides of his lips and the roof of his mouth and never, ever holding still.

When Obi-Wan groaned again and stepped closer, bringing their bodies together, Qui-Gon reluctantly eased away from the embrace, pressing kisses to the closed eyelids, tracing the swollen lips with his thumb. "Think that will hold you until we have some time to ourselves?" he whispered. "Say, later when we don't have a Gungan boss to persuade of the worthiness of our cause?" Not opening his eyes, Obi-Wan nodded briefly but did not step away. "Yes?" Eyes still closed, the younger man took a deep breath and shook his head. "No, nor me," Qui-Gon growled, hauling his lover back into his arms. Obi-Wan kissed him roughly, his mouth opening wide as though he expected to be able to swallow him whole. Both men's hands were everywhere, over robes, under tunics, touching and stroking and gripping and finally Obi-Wan slipped an arm around Qui-Gon's neck and pulled, tumbling both of them to the ground, hidden for the moment by the foliage.

"Hurry," Obi-Wan muttered on a breath, writhing beneath Qui-Gon's greater weight. Sashes were untied, tunics pushed aside but not removed, leggings shoved down to the knees and tangled in boot-tops. Unable to move either pair of legs, Qui-Gon aligned his throbbing erection with Obi-Wan's and ground them together, hard. One strangled shout escaped Obi-Wan's lips before Qui-Gon was devouring him again, one hand above his head to keep him from sliding away, the other between their bodies holding their erections together, Obi-Wan's hands at his ribs with two fistfuls of tunic, pulling Qui-Gon closer with every ounce of his adrenaline-aided strength. Qui-Gon came first, but only by an instant, and after a frenzied few seconds of convulsing madly he collapsed, still trying to take his weight on his elbows over his lover's now-strengthless body, tearing their mouths apart and panting for air with his head hanging over Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan's chest rose and fell rapidly as he, too, gasped for oxygen.

When they could both breathe normally, Qui-Gon claimed Obi-Wan's mouth in one last deep, thorough, hasty kiss, pulling away to say "That should do for now." Obi-Wan smiled weakly but happily, his eyes still closed. "I've missed you, my love," the older man added, to which Obi-Wan smiled again and nodded. "But we should clean ourselves up before Jar Jar comes back." Obi-Wan sighed and sat up, tacitly agreeing.

* * *

Qui-Gon had just buckled his belt when they heard the rustle of their companions' approach. "Just in time," Obi-Wan murmured with a smile. Jar Jar climbed out of the marsh just as Panaka reached their side, accompanied by Anakin, the queen, and her handmaidens.

"Deresa nobody dere," said Jar Jar, apparently puzzled by this -- although, Obi-Wan reflected, everything seemed to puzzle the creature. "Da Gungan city is deserted. Some kinda fighting, mesa tinks."

"Do you think they've been taken to the camps?" Obi-Wan prompted.

"More likely they were wiped out," said Panaka, ever the soul of optimism.

"Mesa no tink so," Jar Jar said to the captain.

"Do you know where they are, Jar Jar?" Qui-Gon sounded as frustrated as Obi-Wan felt at the Gungan's tendency to answer only the specific question that had been asked.

"When in trouble, Gungans go to sekred place. Mesa show you. Come on, mesa show you!"

A short walk later -- both Jedi relieved that no swimming was involved this time -- the party arrived at a glen hidden deeper in the forest. Icons and statuary lay scattered about the clearing; Obi-Wan saw Boss Nass and his colleagues seated atop a broken collossus. Jar Jar conferred with the same mounted, mustached Gungan they had met at the underwater city; this other rode forward and addressed the bosses directly.

"Your Honor," he said. "Queen Amidala of da Naboo."

"Uh," Jar Jar added, "hello dere, big Boss Nass Your Honor."

"Binksss!" the boss bellowed. "Oossa ooden all dis?"

The girl dressed as the queen stepped forward. "I am Queen Amidala of the Naboo," she said. "I come before you in peace."

"Ah!" Nass turned his attention to her. "Naboo bigun. Yousa bringin da mekaniks. Yousa all bombad." That hadn't gone as well as they'd hoped. As long as the Gungans blamed the Naboo for the arrival of the battle droids, no agreement was likely.

"We have searched you out," the girl persisted, "because we wish to form an alliance."

"Your Honor," another voice spoke up. Padme, the handmaiden, stepped forward.

"Whosa dis?" Boss Nass demanded.

"_I_ am Queen Amidala," Padme announced. "This is my decoy, my protection." She gestured to the other girl. "My loyal bodyguard." Peripherally, Obi-Wan saw Qui-Gon glance over at him, both eyebrows raised and a smile tugging at his lips. Obi-Wan studiously ironed his own smirk into his best sorry-to-have-deceived-you-Master expression and looked back at his boot-tips. "I'm sorry for my deception," the queen continued, "but it was necessary to protect myself.

"Although we do not always agree, Your Honor, our two great societies have always lived in peace." The boss grunted at this, but did not argue. "The Trade Federation has destroyed all that we have worked so hard to build. If we do not act quickly, all will be lost forever. I ask you to help us." She dropped to her knees. "No, I beg you to help us." Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon knelt as well, and the rest of the assembly followed suit. "We are your humble servants. Our fate is in your hands."

After a moment of surprise, Boss Nass laughed out loud. For a tense second Obi-Wan feared that even the real queen's efforts at diplomacy -- defer, defer, defer -- far superior to her stand-in's -- had failed, and the Naboo would have to fight the Federation alone. The Gungan boss was still laughing. "Yousa no tinkin yousa greater dan da Gungans?" The girl shook her head, and the boss laughed again. "Mesa lika dis! Maybe wesa -- being friends!"

At his gesture, the gathered suppliants rose to their feet, smiles of disbelief on all their faces. The boss himself climbed down from his perch. After a brief but extremely pregnant silence, Jar Jar's mustached friend laughed out loud and slapped Panaka on the back. The startled captain hesitated for a moment, then slapped back, laughing, and soon all the Gungans and Naboo soldiers were chatting merrily and shaking hands with their new compatriots.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan remained removed from the relieved quasi-celebration. Obi-Wan felt his master's eyes on him. "You knew about this masquerade, Padawan?" He sounded amused.

"Yes, Master."

"It was well-executed."

"It is Her Highness who is to be commended for that, not I, Master."

"Of course. And Her Not Actually Highness as well."

"Naturally." For a moment, neither spoke, simply watching the mingling crowd from the periphery. "I am sorry to have deceived you, Master."

"Do not apologize, Padawan. As you say, the responsibility lies with the ladies."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan was cut off from making further comment by Padme -- Amidala -- the actual queen, calling for everyone's attention. He turned his eyes upon the girl even as he reflected that he still didn't know, with any kind of certainty, whether his master had been aware of the identity-switch or not. He smiled to himself. That was what made Qui-Gon such a prized negotiator; he could speak absolute truth and still not reveal a thing, making those who heard him decide for themselves what they had been promised.

"We must devise a plan for reclaiming our world," the queen announced.

"The army will certainly have been captured," Panaka reminded everyone.

"We know we can't depend on our army," Padme answered, turning to Boss Nass. "Your Honor, our city is occupied, and we must move to reclaim it. Is your capital under Federation control as well?"

"No no." The boss shook his head. "Wesa leavin dere before da mekaniks come. Deysa tinkin is deserted."

"Which explains why there aren't patrols in this area," Padme said, nodding. "Captain. How soon could you get back to Theed and return with as many fighters as possible?"

"Going around the short side, but allowing for the fact that we'll have to hide from the Federation patrols -- probably less than a day, your Highness," the captain concluded.

"Then take these soldiers with you," the queen declared. "And good luck." Panaka and the soldiers bowed and moved away to plan what was essentially a rescue mission.

The Gungans were clearing away, disappearing back into the woods; the bosses, however, remained, waiting to meet privately with the true queen, who was still speaking to the rest of her group. "Until tomorrow morning, I suggest we all stay hidden. The Federation is searching especially for Sabe and for me, but not one of you is entirely safe. We must remain here in the forest; nobody go off alone. Everyone is to remain with at least one partner at all times." Obi-Wan was aware that he inched the tiniest bit closer to Qui-Gon at this pronouncement. They watched the small group of women break off: Rabe, Sabe and Eirtae clustered together, and Sache and Yane were about to turn to Padme when she said "Anakin, you'll stay with me, won't you?"

She said it with a smile, almost indulgently, but managed not to sound patronizing. The boy's face lit up. "Sure!" he said, enthusiastically, then immediately turned to Qui-Gon. "I mean --"

Obi-Wan saw his master nod once, and bit his tongue to keep from smiling. Anakin stepped to the girl's side, little chest puffed up with pride at being trusted with the safety of a queen. Padme ruffled his hair fondly, and the meeting was evidently adjourned. The other handmaidens had drifted away, and Obi-Wan was about to suggest they do the same, when Qui-Gon spoke to the queen over Anakin's head. "Thank you," he whispered. "You'll call us if you need us?"

"Certainly, Master Jedi," she replied. "But assuming we shan't need you, we'll see you tomorrow midmorning." She turned to steer Anakin toward the waiting Gungan bosses, but not before glancing at Obi-Wan and giving him a wink.

For several moments, Obi-Wan simply gaped in the direction the girl and the Gungan party had departed. When they had disappeared, and the clearing was empty, he heard Qui-Gon turn to face him and try to hide his laugh behind a cough. "Always glad to amuse, Master," he murmured, snaking his arms inside the dark cloak and around the sturdy waist. "Where can we go?"

"Well, anywhere, really --" Qui-Gon gasped as Obi-Wan's tongue darted into the hollow of his throat -- "but not here. Sacred place." He leaned down for a kiss.

"You got 'sacred?'" Obi-Wan asked when Qui-Gon left his lips in favor of cheekbones and earlobes. "I thought he said it was a _secret_ place -- where no one will find us." Qui-Gon had reached the spot, at the top corner of his jaw, guaranteed to weaken his knees. Obi-Wan grabbed the bigger man's shoulders with both hands and hung on.

"Perhaps it is both," Qui-Gon suggested, nipping once more before setting the younger man away. "Not a chance we want to take. Come along." He turned on his heel and strode into the forest.

Qui-Gon was walking briskly, his steps long and purposeful. Obi-Wan followed without speaking. After several minutes, though, they had reached a glade where the only sound they heard was the occasional chirp of insects and other pond life. "Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan called, stopping.

Qui-Gon turned and looked at his apprentice. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and spread his hands, gesturing to the area around them. Qui-Gon looked around, nodded approvingly, and took a slow, predatory step toward his lover.

Obi-Wan smiled. He could feel the tension crackling between them. Qui-Gon's hair hung around his face and Obi-Wan could feel his heated gaze on his lips. The master took another step.

Impatient, Obi-Wan covered the distance between them quickly, dropping his cloak over his shoulders and flinging himself into his master's arms. He leapt on to the taller body, hooking a leg around a hip and winding his arms around Qui-Gon's neck as he kissed lips, eyelids, ears, and every part he could get near. He felt strong hands on his back and ribs, and realized Qui-Gon was speaking to him. "Shh ... shh ... slowly, love, slowly," he murmured, gentling the embrace and smoothing the excitement away. "There's no hurry, my Obi-Wan. We have all night ..."

With that, he set the younger man back on his feet and stood for a long moment looking at him. His hands at his sides, Obi-Wan could feel every muscle in his body begin to tremble under the strain of not throwing his lover to the forest floor and having his way with him immediately. Qui-Gon stepped forward again and took Obi-Wan's head in both hands, leaning forward and pressing a warm kiss to the forehead at the hairline. Obi-Wan scarcely dared to breathe. His eyes closed as Qui-Gon slowly, softly, kissed the outside corner of each brow. The maddening slowness continued as Obi-Wan felt kisses underneath the inside corner of each eye, then the spot on each side of his face where his jaw met his ear. From the right ear, never picking up the pace or the intensity, Qui-Gon trailed kisses across Obi-Wan's cheek, finally settling on his mouth.

Their lips parted slowly, their tongues slid together smoothly, and before Obi-Wan could immerse himself in the kiss it was over. Qui-Gon had tilted his head back with his hands and was pressing the same gentle kisses to his neck, throat, collarbone -- the large hands drifted down to dispense with belt and sash so tunics could be pushed reverently off Obi-Wan's shoulders. Not missing a beat, Qui-Gon kissed over one shoulder, all the way down the arm to the hand and back up again, across the breastbone, down the other arm and back, then proceeded with the same infernal slowness across the chest and down the abdomen. There were no exceptions -- each kiss was as soft and sweet as the one before. He didn't bite at nipples or lick at ribs. By the time his hands settled at the waistband of Obi-Wan's leggings, the young man thought he would shake apart.

Slowly, infuriatingly so, the big gentle hands rid him of his boots and leggings. Resting on his hips, they held him still as Qui-Gon knelt and pressed his kisses down Obi-Wan's left leg, turning where his toes met his foot and travelling back up the inside. When Qui-Gon's lips touched the crease of his left knee, Obi-Wan nearly lost his control and shifted his balance to his right leg. Qui-Gon reached the left hip, slowly kissed his way across Obi-Wan's body just below the navel, and repeated the treatment on the right leg. Obi-Wan heard himself moan in frustration, and when the kiss reached the crease of his right knee, that knee buckled without warning and he gave Qui-Gon his weight.

Qui-Gon let Obi-Wan sink to his knees before laying him back on a bed of his own cloak. The larger man loomed over him for a moment, kissed his cheekbone one more time, then slid warm hands down his body to rest again at his hips, as Qui-Gon lowered his head and pressed the same soft, slow kisses to his lover's rampant erection. Obi-Wan clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, shut his eyes as tight as he could until he saw stars -- and it worked. He didn't know how, but he managed to keep a leash on his control and not come in Qui-Gon's mouth the instant he was taken inside. The hands on his hips steadied his urge to thrust as Qui-Gon licked and sucked, slow and warm, down and up, prolonging the agony and the ecstasy beyond all previously known limits. Obi-Wan could tell the end was near, and tried to say so, but could produce nothing more than a gurgle; nevertheless, Qui-Gon slid a hand between his legs, cupping the sac with his palm and pressing slightly with a finger against the spot he knew would send Obi-Wan over the edge.

And it did. Crying out wordlessly, Obi-Wan arched his back and kicked his legs and spurted into his lover's mouth. Qui-Gon opened his throat and took it all, letting it pour into him, swallowing quickly and lapping away the overflow. When Obi-Wan finally collapsed back onto the ground, breathing heavily, he found the strength to reach a hand toward the man sprawled over his legs. Qui-Gon smiled and pulled himself up to lie next to his young lover, on his side, leaning his head on one hand, twirling the padawan braid around his finger.

"That wasn't nice," Obi-Wan said.

"You loved it," Qui-Gon answered mildly, kissing his lips and moving down to the neck.

"Sometimes, Qui-Gon," he continued, regaining his breath. "Sometimes it's okay to throw your thrice-damned control to the four winds."

"Indeed?" The older man flicked his tongue over Obi-Wan's collarbone. "You surprise me, love. In all the years I've known you, I've never seen any evidence of impulsive or impetuous behavior."

There was a smile in his voice as he spoke, and Obi-Wan sat up and pushed at a shoulder. Qui-Gon pushed back, lightly, and Obi-Wan pushed again with a laugh. They were scuffling like children at play.

Before he had finished the thought, he was flat on his back, arms flailing, legs uselessly bracketed by the larger man's knees. Qui-Gon dived in and kissed him, fiercely, to within an inch of his life, holding him down with one big hand on his shoulder and tugging at his own belt with the other. Obi-Wan squirmed and struggled, pushing his lover away so he could sit up, reaching frantically to help him undress. He assumed responsibility for the belt and sash as Qui-Gon leaned over to unfasten his boots, but they both soon realized it would be quicker to trade places. Obi-Wan's nimble fingers had the boots unfastened and were tugging at leggings by the time Qui-Gon had shed his belt, sash and tunics. The older man kicked his legs, sending his leggings in a bunch away from his feet, and flew at Obi-Wan again. "Faster?" he growled. "Harder? You're on." He sank his teeth into Obi-Wan's shoulder, and the young man shouted out loud. Qui-Gon covered the lean body with bruising kisses, scraping his teeth and beard against the sensitized skin, as he reached up and hooked three fingers over Obi-Wan's bottom teeth.

Obi-Wan felt the tug and immediately closed his mouth over the fingers, massaging them with his tongue, slicking them thoroughly. Qui-Gon sat up on his knees, pulling Obi-Wan by the jaw to follow him. Obi-Wan continued sucking Qui-Gon's fingers, sucking hard, as Qui-Gon sat on his heels and Obi-Wan wound his legs around the bigger man's hips, settling on his thighs. Qui-Gon's free arm wrapped around Obi-Wan's back; he dragged his fingers from the younger man's mouth and reached behind him to slide inside. Obi-Wan leaned forward, latched his mouth onto a nipple, and kept right on sucking.

Qui-Gon threw his head back, the hand bracing Obi-Wan's back drifting up to hold his head where it was, the finger inside him joined by a second. Obi-Wan pressed his erection into his lover's and transferred his attention to the opposite side of his chest, biting and then licking the spot under the arm where the breastbone gave way to the ribs. He dragged his teeth back toward the center of Qui-Gon's body, scraping his way up toward the other nipple, digging his fingernails into the broad shoulders when he felt the third finger slip inside to stretch him.

He could hardly bear it. Shaking his head out from Qui-Gon's grasp, Obi-Wan seized that hand and spit in it, as good as ordering the man to lubricate immediately. Qui-Gon obeyed; Obi-Wan swung one ankle up to rest on a shoulder as Qui-Gon took his hips in both hands, leaned in for a kiss that fairly drew his soul from his body, and guided him down onto his straining, impatient length.

Qui-Gon's hands were strong and his grip was sure, and Obi-Wan surrendered all control and simply clung to his lover as the older man raised and lowered him, pumping with his own hips as well, thrusting rapidly until, eyes and mouth wide open, he froze, jerked once more, and streamed into Obi-Wan's body. The sudden warmth inside him triggered Obi-Wan's own orgasm, and he shuddered and groaned in his lover's arms.

Both men slid to the ground, sprawling, boneless, speechless. They lay down on Qui-Gon's cloak, wrapped in each other's arms and legs, and covered themselves with Obi-Wan's. With the very last of his strength, Obi-Wan used the Force to summon their clothes to their side, where they could reach them quickly in the morning; after a last, slow, lingering kiss, they slept.

* * *

Qui-Gon woke before sunrise, in the dim grey light of dawn. Obi-Wan lay in front of him, head pillowed on his arm, nestled in the curve of his body. The young man was shivering, though he was still deeply asleep. Qui-Gon tightened his embrace. Obi-Wan only shook harder, and Qui-Gon gently nudged him so he would turn in his sleep, turn to face the older man and curl, instinctively, even closer to his body. Obi-Wan did turn, and did huddle closer against Qui-Gon, and did not stop shivering when his lover wrapped both arms snugly around him to warm him. _Not from cold_, Qui-Gon thought. Obi-Wan mumbled something against Qui-Gon's chest, and twitched. _A dream, then -- a nightmare._ [[Wake, love.]] He concentrated, wafting a suggestion, a sense, a feeling, into Obi-Wan's mind. [[Wake, my Obi-Wan. You are safe here with me.]] "Obi?" he said out loud. "Wake for me --"

Suddenly, the young man's arm around him tensed and tightened; Obi-Wan mumbled again and his eyes flew open. He shuddered. "Master?"

"Right here."

"The vision again, Master."

"It came to you in your sleep?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Something is going to separate us. I could feel anger and fear and all sorts of darkness."

"Obi-Wan, does it not seem to you that what separates us may be your trials and knighting?"

"Yes, Master, I had the same thought. But if I know this, why does the vision still appear?"

"In my experience, Padawan, a premonition does not visit to share previously unknown information; it merely sheds light on what we already know."

"But the light has been shed," Obi-Wan muttered, frustrated and miserable. "I am unhappy at the prospect of my knighthood separating us. Do I need the Force to keep telling me this? I know it's going to happen. I know I'll be unhappy. Can't the vision go away and leave me in peace?"

"Shh, love ... does the fact that you know it will come make you dread it any less?"

"No, Master."

"When we see the future, we see what has not yet occurred -- not what we do not yet know will occur. Once you are knighted, whether we are separated or not, this vision will pass."

"Yes, Master," the apprentice grumbled.

"Or," Qui-Gon said, after a moment, "you might want to lay off the spicy food." He felt Obi-Wan's ribs jerk as he chuckled. [[Be calm,]] he urged. [[Nothing to fear.]]

"Just as you say, love," Obi-Wan murmured, settling himself on top of Qui-Gon's body. "Just as you say." He lowered his head as Qui-Gon raised his, their lips meeting in a warm, languorous kiss. Their mouths opened, the kiss deepened, their hands slid over each other's bodies, and they made slow, gentle love in the early-morning light, before rising, dressing, and finding their way back to the group.

At the edge of the forest, on the border with a vast, undulating grassland, Padme was studying a two-dimensional floor plan of her palace while Anakin chatted excitedly with some Gungans nearby. The queen's handmaidens hovered near her, ready to do her bidding. "Good morning, Your Majesty," Qui-Gon said with a bow.

"Good morning, Master Jedi. I believe the bosses and I have arrived at a plan of attack which should prove successful."

"I am glad to hear it. I presume, though, that it depends upon the safe arrival of at least a small Naboo force?"

"It does. If Panaka met no dangers, he should be --"

"They're here!" Anakin shouted, running toward the group from a half-sunken statue head with a Gungan lookout atop it.

"Good," Padme said, sighing with relief. "They made it."

Looking across the rolling hills, Qui-Gon could see a handful of speeders, each carrying a handful of fighters. Not a formidable opponent for any army, much less the Trade Federation's droids. "Captain," he bowed, as Panaka and his group disembarked and moved toward their queen.

"Your Highness," Panaka began.

"What is the situation?" the girl asked.

Panaka sighed slightly. "Almost everyone is in camps. A few hundred police and guards have formed an underground resistance movement. I brought back as many of the leaders as I could." He gestured to those who had come with him, then glanced at the Jedi and assembled Gungans. "The Federation army is also much larger than we thought. And much stronger. Your Highness, this is a battle I do not think we can win."

"The battle is a diversion," Padme said, her voice carrying surprising authority for a young woman advising her own military on battle strategy. "The Gungans must draw the droid army away from the cities. Artoo?" The little droid rolled up to the group, beeped, and projected a holographic map of the city of Theed. "We can enter the city using the secret passages on the waterfall side," Padme explained, indicating this detail. "Once we get to the main entrance, Captain Panaka will create a diversion. Then we can enter the palace and capture the Viceroy. Without the Viceroy, they will be lost and confused." She turned toward Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. "What do you think, Master Jedi?"

"The Viceroy will be well guarded," Qui-Gon cautioned.

"The difficulty's getting into the throne room," Panaka said. "Once we're inside, we shouldn't have a problem."

"There is a possibility," Qui-Gon added, turning to Boss Nass, "with this diversion, that many Gungans will be killed."

The rotund boss threw his chest out proudly. "Wesa ready to do oosen part."

"We have a plan which should immobilize the droid army," Padme assured her allies. "We will send what pilots we have to knock out the droid control ship orbiting the planet."

"A well-conceived plan," Qui-Gon said. "However, there's great risk. The weapons on your fighters may not penetrate the shields."

"And there's an even bigger danger." Obi-Wan spoke up for the first time. "If the Viceroy escapes, Your Highness, he will return with another droid army."

The queen looked at the Jedi apprentice as though he had just told her that if it rained, the ground would get wet. "Well, that is why we must not fail to capture the Viceroy," she said. "Everything depends on it."

"If we hurry, Your Highness," said Panaka, "and travel against the rotation, we can reach Theed by midday.

"Then let us hurry," the queen agreed. "Your Honor, your people can arrange transport for your army, is that correct?"

"Wesa taken care of everyting," Boss Nass told her. "Wesa no liken da Naboo bongo no way."

"Very well," Padme decided. "There is room for all of us in the Captain's transports; I suggest we leave at once."

In fact, they did reach Theed by midday. With some fancy piloting to evade the droids and well-placed Force-suggestions to evade the sentients, the small force managed to land in a rarely-traveled corner of the city and stealthily make their way to the city's main plaza. Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Anakin stayed with the queen and half the group, approaching from one direction, while Panaka and the other half took a circuitous route and arrived on the opposite side. Padme and Panaka exchanged light signals to advise each other of the relative safety of their situations. Qui-Gon crouched down to speak to Anakin. "Once we're inside, Ani," he said, "I want you to find a safe place to hide and stay there."

"Sure," Anakin said, with a good-natured nod.

Qui-Gon wasn't sure the boy understood the danger of the situation. "And stay there," he repeated. But then it was time to run.

Several droids had noticed their presence and broken into a mechanical run, firing on the small group of resistants. Padme's troops immediately returned fire, running a block so the queen and her immediate retinue could hurry inside. Inside the hangar, Qui-Gon saw Anakin scurry under a fighter ship, and was glad the boy had heeded his instructions; he had no time to concentrate on that, though, as he and Obi-Wan used their lightsabers to deflect blaster bolts away from the queen. As often as possible, they bounced the fire straight back to the shooter, destroying the droids themselves. Padme, gun in one hand, waved to her pilots with the other. "Get to your ships!" she cried, and as one, they obeyed. The ships took off one at a time, distracting the droids enough that Panaka and his segment of the fighting force could join the skirmish and end it. "My guess is the Viceroy is in the throne room," Padme said when the dust had settled. She turned to Qui-Gon, implicitly asking his opinion.

"I agree," he said, the whole group heading for the hangar's exit.

"Hey," a child's voice called, "wait for me!"

Not breaking his stride, Qui-Gon looked up and saw Anakin in the cockpit of the last fighter, one that had not taken off. "No, Ani," he said, "you stay there. Stay right where you are."

"But I --"

"Stay in that cockpit," Qui-Gon warned, and was again glad the boy obeyed -- however grudgingly. The group continued toward the exit.

Then, suddenly, they all stopped in their tracks. The red-and-black-faced Sith Qui-Gon had met on Tatooine was there in front of them. Padme, Panaka and the Naboo troops backed away instinctively. Qui-Gon, with Obi-Wan at his side, stepped forward. "We'll handle this," he said.

"We'll take the long way," the queen instructed, redirecting her group to a side exit.

Qui-Gon shrugged off his cloak and tossed it to the floor; Obi-Wan did the same. Across the hangar from them, the Sith dropped its own cloak and drew its lightsaber. _The handle_, Qui-Gon thought as he drew his own weapon. _That's the longest handle I've ever seen on a_ \--

The Sith had a lightsaber that lit at both ends.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, blades in hand, ran at the creature. In moments, they were engaged in a sword-and-staff fight the like of which Qui-Gon could scarcely remember ever having seen before. There were two of them, and one of it, and they seemed well-matched. This Sith was a fearsome opponent indeed.

Swing, dodge, duck, parry. The Sith kicked Qui-Gon in the chin, and he reeled. Slide, run, swing, block. As Qui-Gon got to his feet, Obi-Wan followed the creature toward the open doorway between the hangar and the palace's power center. Parry, spin, strike, kick. Just as Qui-Gon rejoined the fight, the Sith kicked Obi-Wan in the chest. It could manipulate the fact that, while on opposite sides of it, the two Jedi presented a very real danger to each other. Jab, dodge, strike, block. Together, they pressed their opponent back and gained an advantage, cornering it at the edge of a platform around the perimeter of the core; but it jumped back and landed with both feet on a causeway on the other side of a chasm. Together, they jumped over to join it. Duck, strike, parry, sweep.

Obi-Wan had been holding his own, but before long the Sith shoved him backwards and he fell off the edge of the causeway. The padawan soared through the air, managing to catch hold of a platform two levels down and hang on. Qui-Gon spared precisely one blink of one eye to be grateful for this, but kept his attention on his opponent, who now had him out-armed. Qui-Gon's left fist came down in a backhand across the Sith's left cheekbone, knocking it over the side. It landed one level down; Qui-Gon hopped down after it, and landed swinging. Parry, duck, spin, attack. Behind the creature, he could see a passageway, blocked by cycling energy doors, leading -- well, leading someplace smaller than this cavernous core, at any rate, someplace where they might stand a chance of cornering it. He pressed back. The Sith retreated toward the energy doors. Through the Force, Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan spring back up to the catwalk he was on and run to catch up with the fight. The Sith was through the first door, and the second. Qui-Gon was through the first. Obi-Wan was running behind him. The Sith was through the next door, and the next. It passed the last door and the red field cycled shut between them. Obi-Wan had not passed the first when it closed.

On the other side of the energy shield, the Sith paced and stared at Qui-Gon. It hit the field with its lightsaber a couple of times, making sure it was impenetrable. Qui-Gon knelt and closed his eyes, deactivating his saber, finding his center. He could sense Obi-Wan's frustration, back at the beginning of the door cycle, and stretched out to calm the younger man. He took a deep breath. Eyes closed. Soon, soon --

The door opened and his blade was in his hand and the Sith was in front of him fighting harder than ever. Attack, parry, spin, dodge.

The remaining doors were opening in a cycle, inside to outside. Swing, strike, lunge, retreat. When the door in front of Obi-Wan finally opened, Qui-Gon could feel the impatient young man rush forward, anxious to rejoin the battle; but before his apprentice reached him, Qui-Gon heard the first door close again, and Obi-Wan was trapped, caught behind one layer of energy-shielding, so close to his side and yet, practically speaking, as far away as if he had never existed.

Parry, spin, attack, recover. Right, around, duck, leap. Dodge, advance, lunge, block. Left, step, over the head, and in an instant the handle of the Sith warrior's saber caught Qui-Gon under the chin and there wasn't enough time and he could feel his padawan's helpless distress as before he had a chance to bring his weapon down or even take a step away it was over. The angry red lightsaber cored him. Behind the door, Obi-Wan screamed. For a moment Qui-Gon could feel exactly where the saber pierced his chest, and where it came through his back; but that didn't last long, and soon the pain, too great to control, had oozed and spread like a living thing and filled his whole body. The Sith withdrew its blade and stepped back with a sneer. Qui-Gon felt his arms curl in front of the hole in his breast and he fell.

He fell. He saw the floor coming up towards him and could not stretch out a hand to break the impact. He managed to turn slightly and catch his weight on his shoulder rather than his face, but it was his left shoulder, the wounded side, and he was surprised to find that jarring that side of his body, the side with the wound, caused it to hurt even more. He wouldn't have thought it possible.

He could hear the energy doors cycling open, could sense Obi-Wan's fury howling through the Force, could hear the young man's rushing footsteps as he came fully into the reactor core. Qui-Gon heard the clash of light-blades as the battle was again joined. He drew a gasping half-breath into his one remaining lung. The blow had missed his heart. It was going to take him a long time to die.

* * *

Strike, strike, parry, dodge, thrust, recover, spin, lash, and the Sith's two-bladed lightsaber was split in half at the handle. Obi-Wan barely noticed the slight rush of satisfaction at this small victory. His focus was on the demon in front of him, with an occasional mental glance in Qui-Gon's direction. The older man lay quietly, but his presence was still firm in Obi-Wan's consciousness. Spin, dodge, parry, advance. He judged it safe to try to project a thought. [[Master, hang on, I'll --]]

[[Stop it, Obi ... focus,]] was all Qui-Gon could manage.

Leap, flip, strike, spin, sweep dodge sweep and a Force-push like the wall of a building hit him in the face. His weapon was knocked from his hand and his balance was gone and he was falling backwards and the Sith _must not win_ and quick like lightning he reached out and grabbed at a nozzle protruding from the interior wall of the great pit.

He struggled to maintain his grip -- on the nozzle, the situation, and Qui-Gon's Force-essence. [[Master!]] he pleaded, instinctively projecting his distress. But he knew his master could not help him now. He was hanging from his fingers above a bottomless pit, and even should he manage to hoist himself back up to the rim, his adversary had a weapon and he had none.

He felt Qui-Gon's suggestion flow to him. [[Use ... Force, Obi ...]]

[[I ... my hands are slipping, Master, and I -- ]] he protested. The Sith, leering smugly, struck the rim of the pit with his lightsaber and sent sparks showering down over Obi-Wan.

[[Concentrate, Padawan.]]

[[I'm -- ]]

[[_Concentrate_!]]

Obi-Wan felt the other man falter. He lay dying and was still trying to reach out and help his apprentice. [[Master, no, your strength -- heal yourself, Master,]] he insisted. The Sith was looking, puzzled, between the two of them. It had evidently not realized Qui-Gon had not died instantly. But how could it not? So strong in the Force ... maybe it could read their minds.

[[Use ... here.]] Stubbornly, Qui-Gon reached out with his failing Force-strength to nudge his own dropped lightsaber in Obi-Wan's direction.

Obi-Wan saw the lightsaber wobble in its place. Qui-Gon was too weak to move it. Above him, the Sith snarled with supposed victory. Gritting his teeth, Obi-Wan called on the Force and pulled himself up into the air, flying gracefully above his opponent's head, calling his master's weapon to his hand. In the single instant of the Sith's surprise, Obi-Wan lit the green blade, bared his teeth, and sliced the striped warrior through the middle. With a look of utter bewilderment frozen on its features, the Sith fell backwards into the pit, splitting neatly at the waist on its way down into the bottomless depths.

Obi-Wan flung his master's lightsaber to the floor and rushed to the older man's side, gathering his fallen lover into his lap and reaching out with the Force, all his attention now devoted to healing the burned hole in his chest. "It is ... too late," Qui-Gon gasped. "It's ..."

"No!" Obi-Wan concentrated harder, channeling all his energy toward the man in his arms.

"Obi-Wan ... promise ..."

[[Don't speak, Master, please, beloved, save your strength ...]]

Qui-Gon was failing fast, his head supported by Obi-Wan's hand. Obi-Wan could sense his master was calling on every ounce of Force strength just to breathe, and could no longer spare any attention to answer the student's projected thoughts. He persisted in _speaking_, though, blast him. "Promise me you'll train the boy ..."

"Yes, Master."

One shaking hand reached up to brush away tears Obi-Wan hadn't realized he was shedding. "He is ... the chosen one ..."

[[Master, _please_, stop ...]] Obi-Wan felt the strong, solid life presence seeping away, joining the whole, like a block of ice melting into a lake. Frantically, he tried to lift it, to separate the ice from the water that would consume it.

"He will ... bring balance ..."

[[I promise! Will you save your energy?!]] Obi-Wan was losing. He could feel that he was near hysteria, and redoubled his efforts at life-support -- but the ice continued to melt, slipping away even as he struggled to hold on.

"Train him!" Qui-Gon's voice was a raspy whisper. The hand fell back to his side. His eyes drifted closed.

[[_QUI-GON_!]]

[[... And I love you,]] Qui-Gon's essence whispered, as the last of the melting ice trickled through Obi-Wan's fingers and fell into the water.

**Author's Note:**

> As I recall, the discussion on MA around the end of 1999 had to do, among other things, with time. According to officially licensed guides and whatnot, the travel time between Coruscant and Naboo (and Tatooine, for that matter) is several weeks, but of course in the movie we see the takeoff and the landing and it's as if only a few hours have gone by. This is a persistent problem in Star Wars in general -- where does the time go? So I thought I'd try to address that a bit. Mali Wane, Terri Hamill, and the incomparable [name deleted] (who can no longer use the handle she was using at the time) were indispensable, giving me the title, multiple betas, and film dialogue, which at the time was tough to come by. Terri had a VCD or some such thing, with subtitles in something like Balinese; I relied on that once or twice, but mostly on my memory and theirs.
> 
> _Future Perfect_ was my first effort at slash, and approximately my second at fan fiction in general. (A friend and I began writing a gen SW novel in college; in high school, I wrote a paper on Tim O'Brien's _In the Lake of the Woods_ that I now realize falls under the heading of "reinterpretive fiction," like Grendel -- it tells the story of a secondary character from that character's point of view. Fan fiction, in its way.) I look at it now and ... well, I don't hate it, but I sure hate some of the choices I made in it. The epithets alone make me squirm.
> 
> _Past Conditional_ carries the thing through the end of the movie -- adhering to canon, I like to think, as much as possible (except for, you know, the slash thing). I see a difference in style already. _Present Progressive_ is my concession to the weepiness in fandom over the death of Qui-Gon Jinn, and an attempt at a solution to the problem of why Ben Kenobi and Yoda disappear when they die, while Qui-Gon Jinn and Darth Vader don't. It's got some stuff in it that I like a lot.


End file.
